by Everly Frost
In among the people were wasps—specialized drones used to tranquilize law-breakers—and twenty or so Hazard Police. One of the officers was on the ground, an attacker about to land a kick. The officer’s drone was firing back, the tranquilizer dart a flying blur on its way to its target.
What really stopped me was that there was not a Basher uniform in sight: none of the attackers were Bashers.
I quickly read the story.
Late yesterday afternoon, a group of fifty citizens attacked a Hazard Police station in Dell City soon after a Parliamentary session in which President Scott refused to answer the Opposition Leader’s questions about the location of the mortal girl, Ava Holland. A government spokesperson confirmed the attack was not a Basher attack but has not ruled out Basher influence. Commenting on the attack, the Leader of the Opposition, Mr. Olander, said, “I do not condone property crime, nor the rash actions of panicked citizens, but the people of Evereach have a right to know how and where the threat to their safety is being contained.”
Beneath the quote was a second picture with the caption: Mr. Olander addresses citizens outside Parliament House. He was a tall, thin man with sharp eyes. In the crowd were regular people: some in suits, some in jeans, some in uniforms. Teenagers, adults, older citizens.
Many of them held homemade placards, one after the other repeating the same three things.
We are NOT safe.
Mortals will kill us.
Death to mortals.
Right at the back of the crowd another sign was held high, and for a second I thought it was the Basher’s slogan: Bury the weak.
But it wasn’t. It read: Bury the mortal.
I sucked in a breath and sat frozen.
They wanted me dead.
But I was here, not there. And so far the president seemed to be protecting my location—if he even knew where I was. I remembered Ruth’s reference to him by his first name and wondered if she was communicating with him. She could have told him everything or nothing, and I had no idea how I was going to ask her without getting the runaround—answers that meant nothing.
I shoved the newspaper into my bag and raced to dance practice, glad to have proper footwear this time, happy to bury my thoughts in movement. Luckily, Luke seemed to realize that I didn’t want to talk and kept quiet other than to give me instructions about the choreography. Seth had already given him the moves for our dance for the mid-summer festival: we were supposed to be the sun and the moon, circling each other, proud of our own light, finally realizing how lonely we were, only to be pulled apart again.
At the end of practice, he said, “You know, I was kind of worried that you wouldn’t pick this up in time for the festival, but I really shouldn’t have.” The praise made me smile, but my happiness was short-lived.
After a quick dinner at Ruth’s place, I hurried to the gallery to talk to Michael. He lurked near the door, half-engaged in conversation with Luke, but pounced on me as soon as I appeared, worry emanating from every line of his body. There was a rolled-up newspaper in his hand.
He drew me aside, ignoring the disappointed glances from Clara and her book club friends. Luckily, Luke migrated toward them, starting up a deliberately loud conversation about “dancing with mortals” and, as much as he was clearly doing it to try to keep them occupied, I couldn’t help but notice the way he threw glances at Clara, trying to engage her in the conversation.
“I saw today’s newspaper,” Michael said. “Mom gets it delivered every morning. It’s a thing with her. Jason said she won’t eat breakfast until she’s scoured the paper for bad news.”
“I guess she found the bad news pretty quickly today, then.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “What are they thinking? The people in Evereach. This is insane. You can’t hurt them. The government should be doing something about it. The Hazard Police—”
“It was the Hazard Police who put out all the warnings to stay away from me. Approach with extreme caution, remember?” I sighed, leaning into him. “I guess they wanted to keep people away but it backfired. All of it. People think I’ll kill them. And they’re right, Michael. Your dad created the mortality weapon from my blood.”
He shuddered. “What if this thing in my back is a listening device or a way to keep track of us? What if it could lead the Bashers right to you?”
I shook my head rapidly. “No, Michael, some of the Councilors came to see me last night. They said it’s just a torture device.” I choked on the words as I spoke them. Just a torture device, as if it were a phone or a charge card.
“Are you sure?” For the first time, there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes. I couldn’t kill it by telling him that the device could still be triggered by someone in Starsgard, so I nodded my head.
He sagged against the wall, relief visible in every angle of his body. Then he pulled up again, alert. “What Councilors?”
“The three northern Councilors. They showed up at Ruth’s place last night, and she wasn’t happy about it. They said the tech in your back is stolen technology from the north of Starsgard. The medical officers would’ve told you that already though, right?”
“No, but I figured they weren’t telling me everything.”
“It’s a kind of bug. Sort of like a creature.” I grimaced as his expression turned to repulsion. “That doesn’t help, does it?”
“Yeah, not really.” His shoulders shook visibly. “It’s bad enough thinking it’s a bit of metal, but knowing it’s alive…”
“They said that if I move north, they’ll help you get it out.”
His eyes narrowed. “Why would they want you to go north?”
“There’s a place up there, away from everyone else. I guess it’s kind of a way of sending me away, putting me somewhere they can forget about me.”
“They’re worried about this.” Michael slapped a hand on the newspaper, jabbing the picture of the broken building. “Imagine if someone blew up a tower here. They’d be digging people out of the rubble for weeks.” He took my shoulders. “If you’re going north, I’m coming with you.”
Wait… I searched his eyes. “You think I should go?”
“To keep you safe? To get this thing out of me?” He nodded, his dark hair falling across his eyes. “Yes, I do. Let’s go.”
“But … your family.”
“They can visit us.”
“No, Michael, it’s not like that. This place, I don’t know, when Ruth talked about it she really scared. As if it was the worst place in Starsgard. She said there’s a tower there that they used to design weapons—just like the bug—and some of the weapons are still active. It’s not like some cozy cottage by the sea.”
He paused as if he wanted to argue, then exhaled, drawing me in closer. “I’m sorry, Ava. I just … I’m tired. For the first time in my life, I honestly don’t know what to do.”
“We’ll figure it out. Ruth said she’ll do everything she can to get the bug out of you—and she promised me it’s not a tracking device. And, look around, the people here aren’t scared of me and they don’t want me dead. Most of them think I’m pathetic.”
Especially the dark-haired girl in the corner of the room, scribbling in her notebook. Every now and then she shot me a look like I was a bug and she pitied my existence.
“Yeah, but for how long?” He stared at the newspaper again, finally scrunching it up into his fist, crumpling the image of the Hazard Officer lying on the ground and the tranq dart zooming toward its target.
“This is fear, Ava.” He met my eyes. “How long before it spreads?”
I couldn’t answer him.
Laughter floated over us from the book club as they dispersed to go home, and I heard Luke say, “Seriously? You think you saw the Snowboy in the Mountain?” He slapped his knee, laughing harder as Clara smiled back.
Her protest was audible as they passed by. “Hey, it could’ve been. How many white-haired people are there in Starsgard anyway?”
Again, he guffawed
. “Everyone’s great-grandparents, for starters.”
“You know what I mean. A young person with short white hair. Hey, I’m just telling you what I saw.”
Now she was laughing too, and it looked as though she saw him for the first time, and despite the newspaper crushed in Michael’s fist and the knot in my stomach, there was a small light in the room before they left.
Jason was on his way over toward us and I realized our time was up. I pulled back from Michael’s embrace, determined to believe we’d be okay, but before I could say anything else, someone grabbed my arm.
A piece of paper appeared in my hand and the girl with black hair stood in front of me, barely glancing at Michael. Up close, I realized that she had a red stripe in her hair, stretching from above her right eye all the way down her back. It reminded me of some kind of spider. Her hair was long but I was sure she wasn’t older than me, so it wasn’t a sanctioned length. Her eyes were an unnatural violet as though she’d had them surgically altered. I wondered how she got away with those eyes and that hair in a place like this.
“We have something in common,” she said.
Then she was gone, darting from the room as though she expected her words to explode.
Chapter Ten
I STARED at the empty space the girl left behind, then spun to Michael, but he was already calling across to his brother. “Jason, who was that?”
Jason strode closer. “She got here from Evereach a couple months ago. Her name’s Arachne, but nobody knows anything about her. She keeps to herself.”
Arachne. I’d heard the name before, but I struggled to remember where. Unfolding the paper she’d shoved into my hand, I hoped it would be a message, some indication of what she wanted from me.
I wobbled on my feet when I saw what it was.
A flawless drawing of my brother Josh. From his spiky black hair to his scowl—the one he wore like armor—she’d captured him perfectly in pencil.
“She could’ve got his picture from anywhere,” Michael warned me, taking the drawing and smoothing it out across his hand. “His face was all over the news in Evereach.”
“Yeah, sure. I mean, absolutely. You’re right. She could’ve, but … why? Why would she make a point of it? Or take the time to draw him so right? That’s a pretty sick way to get my attention, isn’t it?”
He cocked his head as if to say: we’ve seen worse, haven’t we?
Yes, we have.
I met his eyes. “I have to go after her.”
“She’ll be long gone by now, Ava … Ava!”
I was already out the door, pelting down the corridor. She’d hurried out but she hadn’t run. I could catch her at the elevator. Arms pumping, I pounded down the corridor, sliding around the first corner, slamming into the second. I’d have a bruise to join the cut, but it didn’t matter. I’d slap some magic cream on it and all would be right again.
The elevator ding met my ears seconds before I rounded the final corner to the foyer. Dark-hair and the back of a leg disappeared inside the elevator.
I speared across the distance, braced to turn toward the elevator door, and launched myself through the closing gap and into the small space, sliding into the back of the glass with a thud.
Arachne pushed herself against the other side of the elevator, away from me. “You’re as crazy as he was.”
“Then you know he’s dead.” I leaned over my knees for a moment, getting my breath back, leaning back when she was silent. “My brother’s dead.”
Her violet eyes clouded over. Anger, hurt, helplessness. “I read it in the newspaper. He told me he might not make it, but I didn’t believe it until you showed up without him.” Her lip curled. “You’d better be worth it.”
She’d already punched the button for the entrance level before I joined her, and the elevator started to descend, but she produced something from her pocket—a small, round object that looked for all the world like a thumb-sized ladybug. She attached it to the control panel and the ladybug flattened itself with a little click, suctioned to the metal as if it was feeding off it. The elevator slowed to a gentle stop.
“It’ll only give us five minutes. Which is probably just as well because your protector will go crazy if you’re gone long.”
“If you mean Michael—”
“Yes, I mean Michael, the one who killed Josh!” She raked a hand through her hair, sucking in a deep breath, trying to gain control, her hands clenching and unclenching.
I studied her, the wounded depth to her eyes, the way she held herself up as though she was clinging to an invisible thread, a fragile rescue line. I asked, “Who are you?”
“Someone your brother saved.” Her eyes filled and she cursed, gaze darting to my face and away again. “Why do you have to look so much like him? He said that if you made it here, and if he wasn’t with you, then I had to give you a message. And after I give you the message I’m supposed to tell you everything I know. Which isn’t much, so don’t go crazy on me.”
My heart stopped for a moment. I’d wanted to talk to him so many times. I had so many questions, and now, somehow, he’d left a message with this girl.
“What happened to you?”
“I was a Basher, but not by choice—just like him. I’m not the fastest healer, so they wouldn’t normally bother with me, but I’m good with technology and, well, let’s say they used me to cause serious financial problems for various people.”
I drew a quick breath, remembering the night of Implosion, of walking upstairs to my bedroom and the air screen downstairs blaring the news about a computer hacker. I took a leap…
“You’re wanted in Evereach,” I said. “Starsgard refuses to extradite you.”
“Evereach wants me for cybercrime,” she said. “The Bashers want to throw me in a pit and leave me for living death because I know too much. Both of them were closing in and Josh got me out of there just in time. He arranged it so that I could get to the border safely. He could have come with me but he was still trying to get you out, too.”
I ignored the accusation. “What’s the message?”
Her lips curved into a strange smile as her gaze flickered to the patches of earthy glass decorating the elevator walls up high—the cameras. “The bug won’t keep the cameras down for long enough, and anyway, I can’t show you here. Really. I’m not trying to keep you in suspense. I need a particular piece of technology to show you the message and it’s not something I carry around with me.” She glanced at the little ladybug as though she expected it to do something very soon.
I pointed at it. “What is that?”
“What does it look like?”
“Did you make it yourself?” She’d said she was good with technology and already my mind was churning. If she’d made the bug herself, then she might know how to help Michael. The problem would be convincing her to do it, since it was clear she hated him with every fiber of her being. Whatever had happened between Arachne and Josh, she blamed Michael for his death.
The suspicion she threw at me could have melted metal. “Why?”
I threw back a question of my own. “Why do you care if you give me Josh’s message or not? You obviously don’t like me, so what’s in it for you?”
Her fingers twitched. Somehow I’d struck a nerve. She said, “I can’t access it by myself. Only you can.”
I stared at her. “So? If it’s a message for me, why would you care?” And suddenly it dawned on me. The reason for the desperation on her face. “The message isn’t only for me, is it?”
“Josh knew I wouldn’t help you. He knew I’d blame you. I told him I would. I told him not to stay in Evereach. I asked him to come with me. He should’ve come with me.” Her indrawn breath shook, the red streak in her hair falling across her eyes as she looked everywhere but at me. “He told me part of the message was for me, that if he didn’t make it here alive, and if I ever wanted to hear him speak again, I’d have to help you.” Somewhere in there, her voice had cracked. “Your brother was
way too clever. Just not clever enough to ditch you and save himself.”
“I won’t help you with the message until you do something for me. I need you to help Michael.”
Her gaze shot back to me, pain gone. “Why does he need help?”
“He has a bug attached to his spinal cord. I’m guessing it’s a lot like that one.” I gestured at the ladybug. “If you help get it out, I’ll help you with the message.”
“I will never help him.”
“Then you’ll never hear Josh’s message.” I stared back at her. I needed to hear Josh’s message too, but I’d managed so far without it, and helping Michael was more important right then.
She didn’t answer. Her jaw ticked.
The bug began peeling off the panel. “Time’s up,” she said. Her hand darted out and pressed the back of it. It dropped off the control panel into her waiting palm. Immediately, the elevator descended again.
She folded her arms and I knew she wasn’t going to say anything else as the elevator reached ground level and the doors opened.
Michael’s pacing form filled the space, his brother close behind. They’d reached ground level before me.
Relief filled his face. “Ava.”
Arachne pushed out behind me and sauntered through the softly-lit entrance.
Michael let her go and drew me back to him. “What happened?”
“She was a Basher with Josh. A computer hacker.” If anyone was listening, they’d know that already.
Recognition flooded his face. “That’s where I heard her name. She hacked into the Terminal once. Dad and Cheyne were not happy about it, but they stopped the hack just in time.” He handed me the picture of my brother. “I figured you’d want this.”
“You figured right.” I folded it up and slid it into my pocket. The picture was true to life and it wasn’t as though I had any photographs of my brother or my family. As conflicted as I felt about my parents and the way they’d left me, I even wished for a picture of them, too. At least now I could remind myself of Josh’s snarky half-smile, the never-quite-real grin that had hidden a lot. The brother I still knew so little about. And now, somehow, he’d sent me a message.
